


Something Like This

by meanderingmirth



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 07:59:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6110203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meanderingmirth/pseuds/meanderingmirth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A seven-day, transcontinental train journey for a business meeting becomes a bit more exciting for Hakyeon when he meets one of the bodyguards travelling with a young heir on the same locomotive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Like This

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy!

The shrill sound of whistles blowing and the low, rhythmic  _chug-chug_  of departing trains grate against Hakyeon’s eardrums as his ticket is inspected, stamped, and dated by what is probably the slowest attendant he’s ever had the misfortune of meeting. He bites his lip and tries not to show his annoyance, even though he feels like grabbing the clearly fumbling man’s hand and leading him through the motions so everything could go by at a quicker pace. At this rate, he’ll surely miss his train.

“All done, sir,” the attendant finally says, passing his ticket and passport back to Hakyeon with a little bow. Hakyeon nods in return, shoving his essentials back inside his coat. “Car 16 is located on your left. Your luggage will be brought to your room before we depart from the station.”

“Thank you,” Hakyeon replies, bending to retrieve his briefcase before hurrying along. There’s still quite a line up following him, and he doesn’t envy the other passengers still waiting for their tickets to get checked.

He follows the long exterior of the train down along the platform, weaving between various passengers clustered around: large families with noisy children, young couples going away on vacation, and other businessmen in dark suits and long coats like himself. Workers are stationed at every car, climbing in and out of the train as they haul large bags and heavy luggage onto the train before everything is delivered to the proper bedrooms. The states of dress for the passengers boarding the train grow steadily more proper and expensive in tastes as Hakyeon walks along; he’s not quite used to travelling with rich people, but the ticket and his travel expenses were paid for by his company. He wasn’t about to refuse seating in a high-class luxury train for his seven day journey for the business meeting he has to attend in another city.

He likes the room he’s booked for the trip despite its dizzyingly alarming array of patterned carpeting, wallpaper, and decor. The bed is wide and there’s a writing desk and squashy armchair facing three windows mounted into the side of the train. So far, all it shows is the steam hissing across the rails and the outline of other trains parked in the station, but he envisions the scenery might look a little nicer once they’ve made it to the countryside.

“Might as well make the best of these seven days,” Hakyeon comments, staring up at the painting of three horses that seem to look down at him. He strips off his coat and jacket, hangs them up in the little closet off to the side and organizes some of the things he’s packed in his briefcase on his desk: business papers that he probably won’t read until the last day, his journal, and several paperback novels he’s chosen to help pass his time on the trip.

A bit of exploring takes him through other rooms on the train, where children are excitedly popping in and out of the hallways as they explore. He sees that some older gentlemen are already making use of the smoking car, fat cigars and pipes wedged into their lips behind thick beards as a heavy cloud of white rises above their heads. The dining car is not yet in service, but Hakyeon spies rows and rows of tables with fancy settings and pristine tablecloths covering its surface, waiting for the guests to arrive tonight.

When he returns towards the suites, there’s a cluster of workers trying to haul some clunky luggage down the hallway, sweating as they do. At the very end of the hall, there’s a group of four men standing and talking— or rather, two of them were; a tall young man with shockingly snow-white hair and a slightly shorter man with droopy eyes and earrings. The other two stand silently around the white-haired male, dressed in the same dark suits with what looked like an insignia stitched over the breast of the jacket in golden thread. One man with brown hair stands with his back to them, but the one facing Hakyeon’s side of the hallway turns and catches sight of him immediately. His narrow eyes flicker over Hakyeon once before looking away, and Hakyeon feels a twinge of nervousness.

Bodyguards, he realizes. Somebody important is staying in the same car as he is.

He squeezes by the workers, doing his best not to tread on any of the luggage, and quickly slips into his own suite before he could gather any more attention.

He figures he’ll indulge in the paperbacks until it’s time for dinner.

+

They depart from the station at exactly eleven, with a great amount of hissing steam and jolting churns of the train’s wheels before they gain speed and begin to pull away from the city and its packed, bustling life. Hakyeon sits at his desk and reads and reads until the late afternoon, where he takes pleasure in a catnap, ushered in by the faint feeling of the train’s swaying as it travels along the rails. It’s something that wouldn’t have happened if he were at work today.

Dinner is luxurious and filling; even though he eats alone, Hakyeon thoroughly enjoys a five-course meal he’d never had the money to invest in anywhere else. There’s a beautiful wine he samples along with his feast, which Hakyeon certainly hadn’t said no to when the waiter came by and offered it. By the time night falls they’ve managed to enter the outskirts of the city, where the roads are wider and the grass looks a little greener. He’ll have to decide tomorrow morning when he can see the scenery again.

He sends a customary radiogram to his friend Hongbin, who’s been holed up in another city with the new investment company he’s doing finance for, before finding a cozy spot in one of the many saloons on the train. A lot of them are noisy and filled with excitable passengers enjoying their evening, but there’s one in the back that’s mostly full of businessmen like himself, albeit older and greyer, reading from files with little glasses perched on their noses and signing papers with engraved fountain pens.

His own pen is shabbier, but Hakyeon doesn’t mind it, even if it does belies his slightly-lower-class status. He lowers himself into the soft, plushy material of the chair and pulls out his work. It’s not until he settles into the routine of reading and editing that somebody approaches him and comes to a halt next to the little table in front of him. 

“Pardon me, sir. Would you mind if I took this seat?”

Hakyeon jolts, looking up. It’s a man, dressed completely in black— jacket, shirt and tie— but there’s a familiar golden insignia stitched over his chest. Hakyeon squints at it until he remembers where he’s seen it before, on the bodyguards of the Very Important Person staying in the same car as him. But he doesn’t recall the face of this man, who has neither the piercings or the narrow eyes. His brown hair is neatly parted and styled upwards, wavy strands falling over the arch of his right brow and curling a little at the ends. He’s got an absurdly long nose and brown eyes— which are presently focused on Hakyeon, still waiting for an answer.

“O-oh, yes, of course,” Hakyeon stammers, quickly gathering his scattered papers. “Please, by all means.”

The man chuckles and gestures for him to halt his frantic motions as he walks around the table and lowers himself into the opposite seat, the motion smooth.

“I won’t be needing the table,” he informs Hakyeon with a crooked smile. He lifts a thin book out from his jacket and places it primly on his lap. “I’m only reading this.”

“I see,” Hakyeon says, slowly lowering his papers. “If you’re sure.”

The man smiles again in lieu of a reply before crossing one leg over the other. He props the book up on his knee and flips it open, eyes lowering to the page, and begins to read. Hakyeon watches the man before hesitantly returning to his own work (not before carefully stacking all of his documents into a neat pile in front of him, though).

But his focus evades him now, even as he’s scanning the sentences in front of him, their blocky letters indented into the paper by how harshly the secretary had punched the keys on the typewriter. Instead, his gaze drifts up over the top of his page every now and then to the bodyguard, who’s reclined into the seat as he continues to read. He holds the little book open with the thumb and pinky finger of his right hand while the fingers on his left hand rest on the dark red leather of the armchair, tapping languidly. Hakyeon watches with fascination as the thin tendons move along on the back of the man’s hand, quick and fleeting. Then he catches himself and forces his eyes back onto the documents, trying to make sense of the words floating in front of him. He’s been on the same page for nearly fifteen minutes now; Hakyeon feels ridiculous.

He only manages to get through a quarter of his work by the time the saloon starts to slowly clear out as the hour grows late. Every once in a while the door would open and close with a  _click_  as somebody exited, no doubt off to sleep, and eventually, the man sitting across from him finally pushes himself off the back of the chair and shuts the book. Internally, Hakyeon breathes a small sigh of relief as he makes an edit on the bottom of the page. He’s not sure what it is about the man that’s dragged his attention away from his work so many times, but it seems like he’s about to leave now, and Hakyeon hopes he’ll at least finish half of his work before he falls asleep too.

“Thank you,” the man says suddenly, startling Hakyeon. He jumps a little in his seat, almost dropping his pen.

“B-beg pardon?” he splutters, and the man gives him a sheepish smile.

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to distract you when you were so focused on your work. I only wanted to thank you for allowing me to sit with you this evening.”

“Ah,” Hakyeon says, feeling the heat rise in his face. He had been focused tonight, yes, but it was definitely not on his work. “Please, no need. You were very polite company.”

The man bows his head in Hakyeon’s direction as he stands, smoothing down the front of his jacket. “Have a good night, sir,” he says, and Hakyeon replies in likeness before the man exits the saloon as well, sliding the door shut behind him silently. Only then does he allow himself to relax, slumping down in his seat with a weak exhale.

What had that all been about?

Hakyeon pursed his lips and turns his head, peeking over the back of his chair towards the rest of the saloon. To his surprise, it’s completely empty, and when he glances at the clock mounted on the wall he sits up with a shocked yelp, startled to see that it’s already midnight.

“How in the world...” Hakeyon mutters, and looks back at the small pile of completed documents on his left, and the significantly larger stack of unfinished papers on his right. “...damn it.”

+

He wakes up bright and early the next morning, though not very refreshed. His dreams had mostly consisted of dark suits and gold thread and dark eyes flitting upwards to meet Hakyeon’s gaze every time he looked. It left Hakyeon restless throughout the night, if the sheets wrapped in confusing twirls around his legs were of any indication. Sighing, he pushes his hair out of his eyes and looks out of the window. Pure, green countryside whizzes by, backed by a beautiful blue sky and some clouds scattered above. It’s a lovely morning.

“Pull yourself together, Hakyeon,” he says to himself, and proceeds to try and yank his legs out of his blankets.

He eats breakfast in a lively dining car, flipping mindlessly through a fashion magazine as he nibbles on thick toast smeared with sweet jam. An itinerary had been delivered to him earlier that morning, consisting of activities and scenic stops to look out for throughout the day, and while the pile of unfinished papers sitting on his desk nagged at his mind, Hakyeon figures it won’t hurt to indulge himself while he can.

When he looks up again, he notices a familiar head of white hair moving down the dining car.

It’s the young man and his bodyguards, and Hakyeon’s heart leaps into his throat when he spots the brown-haired man walking alongside his charge, straight-backed and his expression stern. There’s no trace of the little smiles or the relaxed posture from the man sitting across from him in the saloon yesterday night.

“Lord Han!”

A portly, elder gentleman has risen from his seat at the table adjacent to Hakyeon’s, a wide smile on his face and a thick hand extended towards the young man. Hakyeon sees the narrow-eyed guard and the brown-haired man move forwards immediately, but the young man— Lord Han— subtly taps the back of the narrow-eyed man and he eases up, allowing the gentleman to walk forwards and shake his hand.

“Good morning, Sir Hwang,” Lord Han says, smiling in reply.

“It’s lovely to see you,” the gentleman gushes, pumping their joined hands up and down vigorously. “How is your family? I heard your father just struck up a joint overseas business venture; an impressive feat, I must say.”

“Thank you,” Lord Han inclines his head, and Hakyeon’s finally struck by a delayed recognition— the young man is Han Sanghyuk, the youngest and only son of the incredibly rich and business-savvy older Lord Han, who owns the largest shipping and trades company in their country to date. There is virtually nobody in the trade industry that hasn’t heard of the Han family name, especially after Sanghyuk had been named the heir roughly four years ago and had finally begun taking over some smaller branches in his father’s stead while the company continued to expand and grow.

He tears his eyes away from Sanghyuk, who’s feigning interest in the small talk the gentleman is making, and catches the eye of the brown-haired guard before the guard’s gaze flickers away and goes back to watching the talking pair with a cautious eye. Hakyeon reached for his cup of coffee and took a quick gulp, fixing his attention on the rolling hills outside instead.

Now that he realizes it’s  _the_  Han Sanghyuk on this train, Hakyeon’s rather surprised the young heir is only travelling with three bodyguards, one of which has glanced over in his direction again, he notices. He lifts his cup back to his lips and takes another sip, inexplicably self-conscious all of a sudden.

By the time he turns back, the conversation is over and Sanghyuk is eating breakfast at a table on the other end of the car, obscured from Hakyeon’s view by three tall men in black suits surrounding his seat.

+

He spends the afternoon going in between his room and the library— an  _actual_  library— with his work. He catches up with the incomplete portion from last night and covered a good chuck of today’s documents. When he didn’t work, Hakyeon browsed the bookshelves and picked up a variety of different reads, both fiction and non-fiction, and mingled with a few younger businessmen during lunch, chatting with politely about their jobs and hobbies and everything else in between without really learning anything about one another. It’s not that Hakyeon isn’t a social being; with proper and interesting people he’s actually very talkative, but at the same time, he doesn’t envision he’ll meet any of the people he’s travelling with again once their shared journey together is over.

He attends a live music show that night, packed into one of the smoking cars at the back of the train. Braving his way through the hazy of thick cigarette smoke, Hakyeon discreetly waves the fumes away from his face before walking up to the bar for a drink. He chooses a table a little ways back, away from the avid smokers sitting in front of the stage, and sips on the aged brandy in his glass. Through the dim lights and smoggy interior, he fails to notice somebody walk up beside his table again.

“Pardon me, sir.”

Hakyeon jumps, nearly dropping his glass. He looks up, sees the upswept brown hair, the little smile, and the jet black ensemble, and can feel his face reddening embarrassingly.

“Hello,” he says weakly. “Again.”

“Indeed,” the bodyguard replies. “I apologize for startling you— again.”

“No, no— I wasn’t paying attention.”

He gets a throaty chuckle in reply before the bodyguard nods at the empty chair next to Hakyeon’s. “Would you mind if I take this seat?”

“Not at all,” Hakyeon says, faintly, and he watches as the man lowers himself onto the cushion, careful not to crease his jacket as he sits, and places his clear drink next to Hakyeon’s liquor.

“A fan of music?” the bodyguard asks, and Hakyeon nods.

"It’s was this or playing bridge in one of the saloons,” he grimaces. “And I’m terrible at card games.”

The bodyguard laughs, flashing a row of straight teeth. “I’m surprised to hear that,” he says. “Not a lot of people would admit they’re bad at cards.”

“Well, I am,” Hakyeon grins, sipping his drink. “I never intend to play.”

“You’ll save yourself from gambling debts then, I’m sure,” the bodyguard says, quirking an eyebrow. “Perhaps that is the smartest move.”

“No doubt,” Hakyeon snorts. “Say, what are you drinking tonight?”

“This? Plain old tonic water,” the bodyguard replies, and laughs at Hakyeon’s surprised expression. “Your expression resembles the bartender’s when I made my order. I’m afraid it’s because I don’t drink.”

“I see,” Hakyeon replies, a little dumbfounded. “Each to their own, I suppose.”

“And brandy is ‘your own’, I suppose?”

“A favourite after-dinner drink my mother and I both enjoy,” Hakyeon says proudly, taking another sip. The liquor slides down the back of his throat and leaves behind a warm aftertaste. He feels at ease, even though the bodyguard is watching him drink. He’s a handsome man, Hakyeon concludes firmly to himself. And now that he’s finally got that thought out of the way—

“My name is Cha Hakyeon, by the way,” he offers, holding out his hand. After a moment, the bodyguard reaches out and takes it. His fingers are narrow, but his grip is strong when he shakes Hakyeon’s hand.

“Lee Jaehwan,” Jaehwan says. “Pleasure to meet you, Mister Cha.”

“Hakyeon,” he corrects at once. “Just Hakyeon is fine.”

Jaehwan is smiling again as he considers Hakyeon’s words. “Very well, Hakyeon,” he replies as the lights onstage blaze to life. “Please call me Jaehwan as well.”

+

He’s floating on some imaginary cloud for the majority of the following day, mood lifted now that he can put a name to the face—  _Jaehwan,_  the bodyguard had said. Lee Jaehwan, who likes music and drinks tonic water and can stand in an imposing stance next to his charge as easily as he can slip away into the shadows when Sanghyuk signals for him to back off. Hakyeon’s can’t say for sure where this fascination for the man came from, even if Jaehwan is admittedly good-looking and is surprisingly easy to get along with. But he knows he’s interested in the other man, if that is to mean anything.

Now all that’s left is to wonder if Jaehwan’s decision to sit with to him two nights in a row could possibly mean anything.

He receives a notice in the late afternoon from one of the train’s attendants for a radiogram pick-up, so Hakyeon heads to the back of the train to get it. It’s from Hongbin, who’s neck-deep in work and soundly curses Hakyeon for his extended vacation. Laughing to himself, he composes a witty reply for his friend sends it back. Just as he finishes, he hears somebody call out his name.

He turns, and his heart leaps when he spots Jaehwan reclining in one of the sofas by the window. Across from him is the other bodyguard, the one with the earrings. He walks over and greets the two with a smile.

“Hello,” Hakyeon says. “What are you doing over here?”

“We’re on a break,” Jaehwan says, shooting the other bodyguard a knowing look, and the other man snorts.

“An extended break,” he elaborates, which makes Jaehwan laugh but doesn’t quite make sense for Hakyeon. He glances between the two, uncertain.

“Taekwoon’s technically on break too,” Jaehwan smirks. “A very busy extended break. With Sanghyuk.”

“In Sanghyuk, more like,” the other corrects, his voice pitched low enough that only Jaehwan and Hakyeon can hear, and everything clicks in understanding.

“What the hell,” he curses unintentionally, and that makes both Jaehwan and the other burst out laughing. Hakyeon flushes bright red, embarrassed, but Jaehwan just shakes his head and pats the empty space next to him.

“An appropriate reaction,” he tells Hakyeon with a grin. When he does sit, a little hesitant, Jaehwan picks up a glass bowl and offers it to him. “Grape?”

“Thanks,” Hakyeon says, lifting a bunch from the selection of round, plump grapes piled together.

“Let me introduce you two— this is Kim Wonshik,” Jaehwan says, gesturing towards the other man. Wonshik gives Hakyeon a wave and smile. “We work together.”

“I see,” Hakyeon says, popping a grape into his mouth. It’s extremely sweet.

“I take it you’re a businessman?” Wonshik asks, and Hakyeon nods.

“I work for an architectural firm. I’m on my way to handle a business deal out west.”

“Nice company you’re working for,” Wonshik whistles. “They can afford to send you on business trips in luxury trains.”

“It’s mostly for show,” Hakyeon shrugs. “There’s a lot of big name companies at the meeting; they want to look good and show off some money. I’m not looking forwards to travelling in cramped passenger cars again after this.”

“Then you’d better make the most of this trip, eh?” Wonshik says, a curious little smile on his face. His gaze flits over to Jaehwan, so quick that Hakyeon nearly misses it, but when he looks Jaehwan is busy cutting up an apple with a small knife.

“Definitely,” Hakyeon replies, and wonders if Wonshik’s expression is just a little bit too knowing for comfort.

+

Later on that night, he’s only halfway through his soup when yet another person stops by his table again. Hakyeon looks up, half expecting to see Jaehwan again, and nearly chokes on his broth when he realizes it’s Sanghyuk  _and_  his bodyguards entourage standing next to him.

“Good evening sir,” Sanghyuk says as Hakyeon scrambles to his feet, almost dropping his napkin in the process. “Would you mind if I imposed upon your dinner and shared a table with you?”

“N-no, of course not,” Hakyeon croaks, barely managing to string his words together. He gestures awkwardly at the seat opposite him. “Please, by all means.”

“Thank you kindly,” Sanghyuk smiles, and Hakyeon watches in helpless confusion as Sanghyuk takes the seat across from him. He sits down jerkily, shooting Jaehwan a discreet look— but Jaehwan’s expression is stoic and his posture is back to its intimidating stance. Neither he, Wonshik or the other guard (Taekwoon, he remembers) gives anything away. When Sanghyuk tilts his head at them, the three bodyguards retreat to the side of the dining car a little ways away. 

“I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself,” Sanghyuk says, catching Hakyeon’s attention once more. “Lord Han Sanghyuk, at your service.”

“Cha Hakyeon,” Hakyeon replies, utterly lost. Sanghyuk’s amused little smile does not waver, and Hakyeon is immediately certain that Sanghyuk already knows exactly who he is. “To what do I owe this honour, Lord Han?”

“I am simply looking for an adequate dining partner tonight,” Sanghyuk answers, oddly cryptic. A waiter has come by with another bowl of soup and a basket of buttered rolls. “Have you tried the fresh saltwater bass before?” he adds, and when Hakyeon shakes his head, Sanghyuk grins.

“You’ll like it,” he chuckles, and sends the waiter off for their meal. Hakyeon watches the man go, and he momentarily catches Jaehwan’s eye as he’s turning to face Sanghyuk again.

And to his surprise, Jaehwan’s rigid expression softens for the briefest of moments before he’s slipping back into his professional attitude again.

“So, Mister Cha,” Sanghyuk says as he dips his spoon into his soup with far more finesse than Hakyeon’s table manners could ever hope to accomplish. “How do you find this trip?”

Most of their conversation consists of small talk; Hakyeon has no doubt that Sanghyuk is a master of making conversations. He’s really not sure what they might have in common, but he does learn that Sanghyuk is actually five years younger than himself (and silently despairs over that fact). He’s already a very poised gentleman and a proficient businessman who chats easily about the business venture Hakyeon’s about to make at his firm. All the while, Jaehwan, Taekwoon and Wonshik stand as still as statues in the background, every watchful of their surroundings.

“Do my guards make you nervous?” Sanghyuk asks, and Hakyeon jumps.

“N-no, not at all,” he splutters. “Why do you ask?”

Sanghyuk’s smile turns into a rather mischievous little grin as he leans in and lowers his voice. “You seem distracted by them,” the younger man says. “I could send them further away, if it’d make you more comfortable.”

“There’s no need to trouble them or yourself, my Lord,” Hakyeon protests quickly. He fails to stop the heated flush that crawls up his neck, and at this point he’s ready to take back everything he said about Sanghyuk being poised— the kid’s a damn brat.

“If you’re sure,” Sanghyuk hums cheerfully, and dabs delicately at his lips with the embroidered napkin.

Hakyeon resists the urge to cover his face and wonders if Taekwoon might toss him off the train if he tries to wrangle Sanghyuk.

+

An attendant catches hold of him just as Hakyeon’s returning to his room the following evening. He’s got another message for Hakyeon, which he presumes is from Hongbin.

But the paper he recieves doesn’t contain a notice for a radiogram. Instead, it’s a thick piece of stationary paper with the Han family crest of arms stamped at the top, and written on it in narrow, slightly slanted handwriting, is a time and an invitation to one of the private lounges in the back of the train.

He spends the whole time panicking as he dresses and walks, wondering what on earth Sanghyuk would want to see him for. But when Hakyeon slides open the door of the designated lounge, his trepidation gives way to surprise when he realizes there’s nobody in the room but Jaehwan.

For a moment, Hakyeon was struck dumb by sight of Jaehwan standing in front of the window on the side of the train. By the fading grey-blues of the evening sky, Jaehwan’s profile is thrown into sharp relief by the warm hues of the glowing lightbulbs in the room. Hakyeon’s eyes trace over the straight line of Jahewan’s nose down to the shape of his lips and the Adam’s apple that bobs at his throat. Then Jaehwan turns, catching sight of him in the doorway, and Hakyeon forces himself to look Jaehwan in the eyes.

“Hello,” he says, shuffling in. “What’s all this?”

Jaehwan simply gestures Hakyeon into one of the cushy seats by the window and says, “I just thought we’d make our evening meet-ups a tradition. I haven’t kept you from anything this evening, have I?”

“Not at all,” Hakyeon reassures, and even if he did, he’s certainly wouldn’t mind missing out on whatever he had planned for the night.

Jaehwan’s eyes sparkled as he shrugged his jacket off and places it on the back of his chair. “I thought I’d make you something,” he says, and Hakyeon watches as he retrieves a tray from the counter and sets it down on the table between them. There’s two glasses, a metal shaker, several glass bottles of distilled syrup, a bowl of ice and some slices of lime. Hakyeon watches in fascination as Jaehwan pours a generous amount of each syrup into the shaker at a time and mixes together two large, fruity-coloured drinks. He slides a straw into Hakeyon’s and drops the lime onto the edge of the glass, handing it over for Hakyeon to taste.

“Try it,” he urges, and Hakyeon doesn’t hesitate to take a sip.

It’s a sweet drink, and there’s a little fizzle following every gulp that makes Hakyeon think of carbonated tonic water. He makes a noise of appreciation and grins widely up at Jaehwan.

“This is really good! What is it?”

“Trade secret,” Jaehwan winks, and it makes Hakyeon’s heart flutter weakly. “One of my older brothers works at a bar in a hotel; he showed me some tricks.”

“God, it’s so good,” Hakyeon sighs happily, taking another gulp. “Does Lord Han know you make these drinks?”

“He demands them like clockwork,” Jaehwan says, shaking his head, and Hakyeon laughs. “I keep on telling him he’s going to lose all this teeth.”

“Goodness.”

“He’s still young,” Jaehwan sniffs. “I suppose if he doesn’t have anybody near his age to interact with, we’re the best he’s got.”

“Should you be here, then?” Hakyeon asks, curious. “You’re supposed to look after him, no?”

“As long as one of the bodyguards accompanies him at all times, it’ll be alright,” Jaehwan chuckles, stirring his own drink. “Sanghyuk doesn’t like being coddled. And he’s quite capable of defending himself, at any rate. He’s learnt quite a lot of boxing techniques from Taekwoon as of late.” He wrinkles his nose and Hakyeon laughs. “Keeps on testing it out on Wonshik and I.”

“I thought it was Lord Han who wanted to meet with me tonight, actually,” Hakyeon admits. “I saw the Han family crest on the invitation.”

“Ah— it was from me,” Jaehwan says sheepishly, brushing a loose strand of hair back. “I apologize if that surprised you.”

“I think dinner with Lord Han was a little more shocking,” Hakyeon replies. “Why did he want to sit with me, of all people?”

Jaehwan clucks his tongue and looks away momentarily, a slightly pinched expression on his face. “Wonshik can’t hold his tongue sometimes,” he grumbles. At Hakyeon’s inquisitive look, he elaborates: “He mentioned that I’ve been talking with you during my off time for the past few days, so Sanghyuk wanted to see what kind of a person you were. And attempt to embarrass me in the process, should the opportunity arise. In case it isn’t evident, my employer likes to tease. But he genuinely liked speaking with you, I think. He didn’t mind it when I asked for time off to see you again tonight.”

“You asked to see me again?” Hakyeon asks, taken aback, and Jaehwan nods. His eyes meet Hakyeon’s, and there’s something that flickers in his gaze.

“I did,” Jaehwan replies, quite simply, and Hakyeon flounders, unsure of how to respond.

But Jaehwan’s the first to move— he reaches over and touches the back of Hakyeon’s hand with the tips of his fingers. It’s only a slight graze, a barely-there touch, but Hakyeon can feel his skin tingling from where Jaehwan’s fingertips are. Jaehwan stills after that; he’s watching Hakyeon with a rather neutral expression on his face, waiting.

And Hakyeon musters up all his courage and turns his hand over, letting Jaehwan’s fingers drop into his palm.

He closes his hand around the bodyguard’s, feeling the weight of their hands resting against the tabletop, his heart beating wildly in his chest. For a moment he’s afraid to look up, to see what Jaehwan’s expression might be, but Jaehwan is suddenly standing, climbing out of his seat and walking towards Hakyeon. His hand slides from Hakyeon’s fingers and catches Hakyeon’s chin instead, tilting his face upwards. Then Jaehwan’s leaning down, closing in swiftly, his lips pressing firmly against Hakyeon’s, and Hakyeon gives a desperate little gasp, surging upwards to meet Jaehwan properly.

Jaehwan’s unbearably soft mouth belies the almost demanding way he kisses, full of fire and heat, and Hakyeon melts into the feeling of it, clutching at the fabric of Jaehwan’s shirt. Jaehwan’s other hand is holding the back of Hakyeon’s neck, strong fingers squeezing lightly and holding him in place as the kiss gets wilder and sloppier. When they force themselves apart when air becomes scarce, Jaehwan’s gaze is heavy with want.

“Up,” he says roughly, tugging on Hakyeon’s arms, and he follows, letting Jaehwan pull him towards the spacious sofa at the other end of the lounge. They collapse against the leather surface, Jaehwan hovering on top of Hakyeon as they kissed again. Hakyeon drops his hands onto Jaehwan’s broad shoulders and move slowly down his arms, feeling the outline of biceps and firm muscles beneath the material of the shirt. Jaehwan groans lowly into Hakyeon’s mouth, hips pressing downwards reflexively, and Hakyeon nearly whimpers at the sensations that causes.

Jaehwan’s mouth parts from Hakyeon’s, and he makes a disappointed noise that quickly morphs into a stunned cry as Jaehwan bites down on the side of his neck, sucking a mark into the skin just below his collar. Hakyeon squirms, clutching desperately at Jaehwan’s arms as he pleads mindlessly.

“Jaehwan— god—”

“I ain’t a god,” Jaehwan whispers, easing himself off Hakyeon a bit. His lips are red and puffy and so, so kissable. Hakyeon grins and reaches up, slowly undoing the knot of Jaehwan’s black tie. It slips through his collar and drops silently onto the carpeted floor before Hakyeon’s popping open the first few buttons, barely pressing his fingers to the base of Jaehwan’s throat. He feels Jaehwan swallow.

“If I were a god...” Jaehwan continues, eyes roaming over Hakyeon’s form beneath him. He shifts back, until he’s resting on Hakyeon’s thighs, and places his hands on the belt buckle. Hakyeon’s hips twitch in anticipation, and Jaehwan bites his lower lip. “If I were a god, I wouldn’t hesitate to fall for someone as beautiful as you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Hakyeon groans as Jaehwan undoes his belt and pants, tugging them down. He traces the band of Hakyeon’s underwear teasingly as he slides off the couch and kneels on the floor between Hakyeon’s spread legs, eyes sparkling with mirth.

“You’re more like the devil’s advocate,” Hakyeon huffs, and cries out loud when Jaehwan bites the inside of his thigh in retaliation. His hands clench into the cushions of the sofa tightly, but a second later he feels Jaehwan’s hands easing Hakyeon’s fingers off the poor seat.

“Not like that,” he grins, sliding Hakyeon’s fingers into his hair before placing his hands on either side of Hakyeon’s thighs, spreading his legs further. Hakyeon hesitates, momentarily entranced by just how silky Jaehwan’s hair is, and he feels a kiss on his hipbone before Jaehwan is saying, “Go on. Mess it up.”

His breath hitches in his throat and Hakyeon lets his head loll back against the cushion, lightheaded with desire. He’s not entirely sure if Jaehwan knows just how much his words are affecting him right now. Then soft lips on him without warning, and Hakyeon’s fingers tighten in Jaehwan’s hair, tugging and pulling while he thrashes helplessly, a litany of words spilling from his mouth.

But that night, he speaks no word more often than Jaehwan’s name itself.

+

He wakes early next morning, before the sun has fully risen, to a bit of initial confusion: firstly, there are arms wrapped around him and secondly, somebody is snoring in  _his_  bed, but when Hakyeon finally turns over he’s greeted by the sight of Jaehwan sleeping beside him.

He feels like he’s seen a lot of Jaehwan’s various expressions these past few days, but this one, where his face is relaxed and his eyes are closed, dark lashes fanning over pale cheeks as he inhales and exhales softly through parted lips, has instantly become his favourite.

Hakyeon rolls over, carefully rearranging them until Jaehwan’s head is pillowed on his arm. He cards his fingers through the tussled brown strands delicately, remembering the way he’d pulled at Jaehwan’s hair without abandon last night, and how it only spurred Jaehwan on more. Grinning, he closes his eyes again, and sinks back into a very peaceful sleep.

+

They spend the next two days engaged in some kind of strange courtship with one another: whenever Jaehwan’s not doing his duty as a bodyguard, he’s with Hakyeon. Sometimes they’ll eat a meal together, or stay in Hakyeon’s room as Hakyeon works from his desk and Jaehwan reads through the few paperbacks sitting in Hakyeon’s suitcase. If they’re ever in the room Sanghyuk booked for his bodyguards (they rotate sleeping arrangements because one of them must stay with the young lord at all times) they usually end up tangled around one another on the bed, mouths pressing hurriedly together, hands wandering fervently. Taekwoon caught them exiting the room together once, and he looked mildly annoyed when he rapped Jaehwan on the side of the head.

“We have to share that bed too, you misbehaving cretin,” he scolds, and Hakyeon laughs awkwardly while Jaehwan fires back his own accusations of the particular person Taekwoon’s sharing his bed with until he gets socked in the gut.

Sanghyuk eventually joins Hakyeon for lunch again, this time only flanked by Wonshik, and he looks rather gleeful as he talks animatedly with Hakyeon.

“By the way,” Sanghyuk says, swirling a bit of wine in his glass before taking a sip. “You have something showing on your neck.”

Hakyeon colours and slaps a hand over the indicated spot, spluttering wordlessly as Sanghyuk snorts with laughter and toasts cheekily to him.

“To young love,” he says, and Hakyeon wants to bury his face into the bread basket and groan. 

On the sixth night, he’s sitting alone in his room, pen leaking small blotches of ink onto the document he’s reviewing one last time before they arrive in the city tomorrow afternoon. He feels restless, and even though Hakyeon knows  _why_ , he refuses to dwell on it. He doesn’t want to think about reaching their destination right now, not when Jaehwan had stopped him in a secluded corner of the dining car earlier that night, promising to come by after hours so he could spend the night with Hakyeon. Their last night together, Jaehwan hadn’t said, but neither of them needed that reminder.

The words on the paper swim in his vision and Hakyeon finally caps his pen with a grumble, packing everything safely back into its folders and into his briefcase. The little closet and drawers have all been cleared out and stored back inside his suitcase. He’s in the middle of securing the clasp on his briefcase when there’s a brisk knock on his door. Hakyeon immediately goes to open it, and smiles when Jaehwan steps inside his room, carrying a paper bag and loosening his tie with a sigh as he does.

“Hello,” he says. “Have you got room for one more?”

“I’m sure I’ll find the space,” Hakyeon jokes, tugging Jaehwan over by the front of his jacket.

“The young master is off to sleep,” Jaehwan snickers, moving close Hakyeon. “With his favourite grouchy, pouty cuddly Taekwoon teddy bear. Meanwhile, Wonshik keeps on complaining that he’s the only one sleeping alone.”

“Rough,” Hakyeon comments, finding it a little difficult to worry about Wonshik’s lonely nights when Jaehwan’s hands are on his waist and he’s leaning in, kissing Hakyeon sweetly on the lips. The paper bag bumps against his thigh and Hakyeon murmurs between kisses: “What’s that?”

“A gift,” Jaehwan chuckles, reaching in to pull out a small but beautiful bottle of oak mead.

“Oooh, yes please,” Hakyeon grins, taking the bottle from Jaehwan’s hands and admiring it. “I thought you don’t drink?”

“I don’t and I can’t,” Jaehwan chuckles, dropping the bag to the floor and backing Hakyeon onto his bed with several strides. “Drinking never appealed to me, but I cannot ever be intoxicated because if anything happens to Sanghyuk, I have to be ready for it.”

“That makes sense,” Hakyeon hums, tipping his head back as Jaehwan kisses down the column of his neck, his breath warm against Hakyeon’s skin. “Are you going to make me drink it all by myself then?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got a better idea,” Jaehwan promises, and sits back to strip off his shirt in one smooth move.

Ten minutes later, Hakyeon’s leaning against the pillows and drinking the wine straight out of the bottle, limbs languid and feeling a little giggly as he savours the taste. And Jaehwan is there seconds later, kissing Hakyeon deeply, licking the taste of the wine out of his mouth with slow, sensual sweeps of his tongue as he grinds their lower halves together.

And Hakyeon draws him closer each time, kisses back harder each time, and lets Jaehwan take him apart that night in every way possible.

+

He slips back into consciousness early on again, only this time, he feels soft lips trailing down his bare back, quiet endearments murmured into his skin as Jaehwan moves across his shoulder blade and along his spine. His hands rest on Hakyeon’s waist beneath the blanket, almost hot to the touch, and he sighs, stirring.

“Shh,” Jaehwan whispers. “Go back to bed, it’s not time to get up yet.”

“But you’re awake,” Hakyeon mumbles, turning over sleepily. Jaehwan’s laugh sounds low in his chest as he kisses Hakyeon’s eyelids.

“I was thinking.”

“What about?”

Jaehwan pauses, but when he speaks again, there’s an ache in his tone.

“About how much I’ll miss you.”

Hakyeon’s eyes open immediately, and he can barely make out Jaehwan’s face in the semi-darkness of his room. For a moment they simply look at each other; no words were passed between them.

Then, Hakyeon reaches up with trembling fingers and places them on Jaehwan’s cheeks, drawing him down for a kiss. Jaehwan’s the one who chases it, kissing back with a kind of desperation, mouth melding against Hakyeon’s until Hakyeon tugs Jaehwan over him, spreading his legs to accommodate, and Jaehwan lets out a weak little sound.

Everything is slow and it feels a lot like Jaehwan’s trying to remember every last bit of him, but Hakyeon doesn’t mind. He’s holding Jaehwan tightly to him too—  and this time, for a completely different reason.

+

The view from the train’s window is that of smoke again, and he can hear the noise of a busy city train station beyond the walls of his room and through the glass. His scarf is wound around his neck, his coat done up properly, and his luggage sitting by the open doorway of his room, waiting for an attendant to retrieve.

He hasn’t left the room all morning— breakfast didn’t interest him and he had to shower. Jaehwan had dressed and left while he washed up because Sanghyuk had to eat, and from what Hakyeon could tell the attendants would cater to Sanghyuk first, given his class status. He doesn’t mind; sitting in his quiet room gives him a bit of time to relax. He tries not to think too much, though.

Jaehwan enters his room just as the businessman staying in the room across from Hakyeon’s is leaving. He looks like he’s just run back onto the train.

“You haven’t left yet,” Jaehwan pants in relief, and Hakyeon smiles, though he feels brittle as he stands and helps Jaehwan smooth his hair back. He makes to move away once Jaehwan no longer looks like a bird has nested on his head, but Jaehwan’s quick to catch his hands and tug him close. Hakyeon swallows.

“Hey,” Jaehwan says. He sounds oddly neutral. “Thank you for spending so much time with me this trip.”

“No, thank  _you_ ,” Hakyeon shakes his head. His eyes prickle and he looks down. “I enjoyed every minute I spent with you.”

Jaehwan’s eyes are curiously bright when he cups Hakyeon’s face with gentle hands— a touch gentler than anything Hakyeon’s ever felt before. Jaehwan stands on tip toe and leans in, pressing a soft kiss to Hakyeon’s forehead, and Hakyeon closes his eyes briefly, biting his lip to keep the little whimper in his throat back.

“Goodbye, Cha Hakyeon,” Jaehwan says, a sad little smile on his face as he steps back. “Travel safely.”

“You too,” Hakyeon returns, dully proud of the way he manages to keep the waver out of his voice. Jaehwan’s eyes crinkle as he nods in reply. He takes a few slow steps backwards, like he’s not ready to look away from Hakyeon yet, but eventually he turns after a small sigh, coattails swishing as he exits the room.

Hakyeon moves to sit on the bed for a moment longer, hands resting listlessly by his sides until he really does have to leave. He gets up and lifts his own briefcase as an attendant arrives to retrieve his heavier luggage.

He steps onto the smoky, damp platform a moment later, feeling a little odd when the floor lacks the faint swaying motions he’s grown used to over the last seven days. The station is wet and grey; quite a contrast to the lush colours of the luxury train and the warmth of the brown eyes he’s fallen for during the seven days he’s spent inside a whole other world.

But Hakyeon lifts his chin and gathers his things, walking briskly towards the station’s exit.

After all, he never envisioned he’d meet any of the people he’s travelling with again once their shared journey together is finally over, so there’s no use in dwelling on the past anymore.

+

The one good thing about his hotel is the fact that there’s finally telephones available for him to use, and Hakyeon spends a good portion of the day talking with Hongbin in the lounge downstairs. He complains about the workers on the west coast and their apparent lack of work ethics while Hongbin rants on and on about the utter morons that refuse to listen to the financial advice he gives out, despite the fact that they hired Hongbin for that exact job. He spends a fair amount of time rushing in and out of the office and his hotel, where a lot of his personal time is interrupted by bellboys knocking on his door and informing him he has yet another call from someone at the office with yet another inane question for him.

It happens again sometime before eleven o’clock on his fourth night of stay, just as Hakyeon had begun to fall asleep, curled up on one side of the unnecessarily spacious bed. He jerks back into abrupt consciousness, slapping around the nightstand until he manages to turn the light on. For a brief, disoriented moment, he can’t remember where he is until the knocking starts up again, and Hakyeon drops his face back into the pillow to muffle his annoyance.

“Hrmph,” Hakyeon groans, willing the noise to stop. When it doesn’t, he forces himself to roll over in the bed, trying to untangle the white sheets from his legs. The knocking grows insistent, and the harsh sound echoes loudly in his sleepy brain.

“One moment!” he shouts grouchily, tossing the blanket back with a huff. He jams his feet into house slippers and throws a cardigan over his shoulders, shivering as he shuffles to the door. He lifts the safety chain and opens the door a crack, preparing to give the rude bellboy a piece of his mind until he sees who it is.

On the other side of the threshold stands Lee Jaehwan, donning a thick cream turtleneck and a long pea coat instead of the usual suit and tie outfit he wears on the job.

“Hello,” Jaehwan says, smiling beautifully when Hakyeon’s heart leaps in delight and he throws the door open all the way. “Have you got room for one more?”

**Author's Note:**

> my notes are boring tonight because it's 3am and I must sleep, lol.
> 
> here's [bodyguard!Jaehwan](https://vine.co/v/iAW9FDJq6xD/), [young heir!Sanghyuk](http://hansanghyuks.com/post/136727447551/), and [businessman!Hakyeon](http://fyeah-vixx.com/post/106744464045/cr-lovin-n-time-do-not-edit/)
> 
> thank you for taking the time to read! ♡


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